


Desperation

by tanacles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: I don't want to ramble in the tags, I dunno what else to put in here, Incest, M/M, Once again this is really vague Stridercest, So I'm going to stop now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 13:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanacles/pseuds/tanacles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because he knows just what you like. He’s in tune with your body, each twitch your hips give at the too much pleasure, and the way you have to moan and writhe on your computer chair just to release some of the pent up frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperation

**Author's Note:**

> Another short, crappily written story that's full of vague Stridercest. Enjoy, or don't. It's up to you.

You glance towards the flashing digits of your alarm clock, eyes hazy and burning from the near constant blogging you’ve been invested in since 7 PM exactly.  
  
When your eyes refocus and you catch sight of the time - 4:28 AM - you think it might be time for you to hit the hay. There’s an ache in your muscles, right down to your bones, that only comes with the way you stay hunched over your desk during computer time.  
  
You’re careful to wheel yourself back a few centimetres before you start your regular stretching for the muscles in your shoulders. There’s a satisfying pop that could either be your arms or your spine (you’ve given up trying to figure that out), and then you’re slowly rising out of your computer chair.  
  
Except you can’t.  
  
Because the moment your ass raises a little off the seat, you find yourself being pushed right back down by your shoulders. You give a little ‘oof’ in surprise, but that’s the only tell to being caught off guard. The hands that rest on your shoulders give a tender squeeze, and then they’re moving in individual paths. One trails up the side of your neck, curls behind your ear, fingers tickling right along the shell which causes you to squirm briefly away.  
  
And then your shades are being slipped free of your face without so much as a warning.  
  
Your eyes squint at the significantly brighter monitor in front of you, and you’re so distracted by the light that you barely notice his other hand until it’s dipping beneath the waistband of your boxers.  
  
Your heartbeat kicks up a notch.  
  
His breath is just barely skirting along your ear as he shifts closer, and you shyly spread your legs as his hand continues its path downward, until you feel those expert fingers curling around your half-hard length and squeezing. You manage to hear the smirk on his face when he chuckles at the jolt you give.  
  
Your breath sucks in quicker than intended.  
  
After that first touch, he works you with the intent to see it through to the end, each stroke firm and calculated. Because he knows just what you like. He’s in tune with your body, each twitch your hips give at the too much pleasure, and the way you have to moan and writhe on your computer chair just to release some of the pent up frustration.  
  
It grows inside you steadily, much like a cup about to overflow. It’s maddening and you cry out a lot louder than you intend, and before you know it his other hand claps over your mouth to keep your sounds subdued. You feel too hot and too cold all at once and your spine arches away from the back of the chair the moment your release hits you.  
  
The way you feel deliciously numb is addictive all in its own and you want more, but as you come down from your high your brain is a pleasant little scramble and the only thing you can focus on is the way he pulls your boxers back up, one hand ruffling your hair as he leaves the room to let you sleep.  
  
And once your legs no longer feel like jelly, you let yourself up out of your chair and shuffle lifelessly to your mattress, where you’re quick to curl up and slip into unconsciousness.


End file.
